


(The Time Derek Had To) Pick a Fucking Anchor

by cheshirecat101



Series: Tumblr Prompts [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cute, Fluff, Fluffy Ending, Full Shift Werewolves, M/M, Pining Derek, Season/Series 04, Stiles Sexual, Stiles is Derek's Anchor, Wolf Derek, Wolf Derek Hale, Wolfing Out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-27
Updated: 2015-07-27
Packaged: 2018-04-11 13:44:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4437746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cheshirecat101/pseuds/cheshirecat101
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek's Wolf form has only one thought: Stiles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	(The Time Derek Had To) Pick a Fucking Anchor

**Author's Note:**

> So apparently I literally cannot keep any of my tumblr prompts short because again, this one turned out way longer than I expected. So I've decided to just post all of them under a collection of the prompts. Much easier that way. Hope you enjoy!
> 
> Friendly reminder that I do commissions, message me at the email address on my profile if you're interested.

Of course, it hadn’t been his first thought. His first thought had been Kate, the revenge that he so desperately needed. But after that…well.

That night had been…different. Everything was different now, when he was trying to get control of his wolf, learn to control the full shift. It was more difficult than he’d imagined it would be, and as well-meaning as Scott was, he just wasn’t enough. But he didn’t want to enlist the help of a certain someone, because, well. There were quite a few things he needed to resolve with himself first, and every day he seemed farther away from reconciling them, being able to handle them in some coherent way rather than just a scrambled mess of emotions in his head.

So he was more than a little surprised and concerned when, one day, Stiles showed up at the loft instead of Scott, pushing the door open and walking in like he owned the place with a resting bitch-face. Great, that was a great start to the day. 

Stiles took only a second to locate him where he was on the floor, in the middle of his workout routine and currently halfway through his mountain climber reps. Reluctantly, he slipped to his knees, looking up at Stiles with his eyebrows cocked. 

“You’re not Scott,” he said simply, and Stiles snorted, moving deeper into the apartment, like he was ignoring Derek entirely. Which wasn’t entirely the case, as he spoke a moment later.

“Astute observation, Derek.” He paused a moment, taking a look around the apartment as if judging it, and Derek had to wonder just what had gotten into the boy that, only a few weeks ago, had cried over his fallen body before Derek managed the first transformation. Why was he so pissy about being here? Finally, those–usually–warm brown eyes turned back to him, and Derek reminded himself to keep his heartbeat even, even though Stiles couldn’t hear it. “Scott sent me. He said you’re having trouble with your transformations, and I managed to help him with his, so.” 

Derek waited for more, but Stiles simply left it at that, and he reluctantly got up from his position on the floor, moving slowly towards where Stiles seemed to have planted himself, looking out the large window in front of the table, his arms crossed against his chest. Defensive, and Derek could smell hints of anxiety coming off of him. Was he afraid of Derek now or something? Afraid of the power he held in his new form?  

That didn’t make much sense. For one thing, turning into a full wolf only gave him certain advantages. For another, Stiles just wasn’t afraid of him–wasn’t afraid of much–and wouldn’t suddenly be skittish around him for no reason. Only he wasn’t skittish. He was anxious, and was covering it up with frustration, though why, Derek didn’t know. He seemed angry, more than anything else, but Derek just didn’t know why he was acting this way. 

“Alright,” he said slowly, and waited until Stiles turned around to face him, though it took him quite a while, the teen seeming reluctant to do it. Though Stiles almost wasn’t a teen anymore, was nearly a legal adult, but it wasn’t like Derek had been keeping track of that or anything. He just happened to know Stiles’s birthday. Right. “How are you going to do that?”

Stiles shrugged one shoulder, an offhand motion that was more casual than his tense posture implied. Odd, this whole thing was odd, and Derek suddenly didn’t want him there anymore. Hadn’t really wanted him here at all, honestly, not before he got right with himself. 

“I’m not sure. But he seems to think I’ll have better luck than he’s had,” Stiles answered, and uncrossed his arms from his chest, leaning back against the table behind him and holding onto the edge. “I can really only tell you the same thing I told him; find an anchor, and think of that. But that was to calm him down, not make him shift. So…” He took a deep breath, seeming to think about it for a minute. “I guess, find something that you want to protect, maybe? Something that you’d need to shift for. Or find something that makes you angry, that makes you vicious. Like Kate.”

He added those last two words almost softly, almost as if he didn’t want to say them, and Derek appreciated his consideration. Kate. Right. He could…he could do that. Anger, and betrayal, and all those nasty emotions that he conjured up every time her name was even mentioned. He was already only in his sweatpants, shirt off for his workout and his tattoo visible if Stiles wanted to look for it. But right now, he didn’t even seem to want to look at Derek, keeping his eyes to the side as Derek closed his own, trying to concentrate. 

Anger. Betrayal. Rage. But those emotions only fed into one thing, the one thing that was throwing him off; hurt. Memories of Kate hurt more than anything, made him feel shittier than he’d ever imagined he could feel before she came along, and had never felt again afterwards. At least, not that badly. He still felt pretty shitty right now, the old feelings associated with her combining with the rather complicated, tangled mess in his head that was already interrupting him, and he huffed out a frustrated breath before opening his eyes again to find Stiles’s trained on him.

“That’s not going to work,” he said, a slight edge to his voice, as if blaming Stiles for the failure. He wasn’t, but Stiles’s frustrated mood was rubbing off on him a bit, and he had to focus on keeping himself even, calm. Frustration was unavoidable sometimes, but in this case he should have been immune to some teenager’s shitty mood. Get it together. 

“Then try the other thing,” Stiles said, irritation clear in his voice, and Derek gritted his teeth a bit, jaw pulsing lightly with a motion that Stiles didn’t catch. “Find something that you really care about, something that you want to protect, and focus on that. Focus on only being able to protect them like this.”

“But I wouldn’t have to,” Derek said simply, and Stiles answered, his voice cool, “You can’t always protect everyone, Derek, not even yourself sometimes. So pick a fucking anchor.” 

Wow. Someone was in quite the mood, and Derek’s eyes narrowed as he looked at Stiles before he closed them entirely, taking a deep breath as he tried to calm himself back down. Okay. Someone he wanted to protect, someone he’d sacrifice everything for and protect no matter the cost. Scott…not quite. Peter, definitely not. Lydia, ish. Liam, well, he was a puppy in need of protection. But…

Oh, oh no. He could feel it into his bones, soaking through his skin directly into the marrow. The desire to protect, to care for, to watch over no matter what. He knew with a frightening certainty that he’d do anything to watch over Stiles, and he opened his eyes just as the shift began to burn underneath his skin, cutting it short, off. No. No, he wasn’t going to think about Stiles like that, he’d pushed it back and pushed it back and pushed it back that at this point, it was just second nature to him. Because he wasn’t supposed to see Stiles that way. 

“You had it.”

Stiles’s words cut through the panic in Derek’s brain, and his eyes flashed back to that no longer babyish face. He was getting older, evening out and growing, and Derek had to wonder how long it would be until everyone else noticed. Until someone swept him off his feet. Oh, that one hurt.

“What?” he asked, and Stiles rolled his eyes, letting out an exasperated sigh as he kept his eyes trained on the ceiling, still seeming reluctant to look at Derek at all. 

“You had it,” he said, a tinge of irritation coloring his tone. “You had something, the shift was going to come, I could tell. And then you just stopped. Gave up. Do it again.”

“No,” Derek said with a shake of his head, knowing that this was a bad place to go with this. He didn’t want Stiles to be his anchor.

Stiles pushed himself off the table, taking a step towards Derek. “Do it again,” he said more firmly, and Derek was just as firm as he responded, “No, Stiles.”

“Do it again!” Stiles exclaimed, nearly shouting, and Derek was suddenly growling and oh, there it was, the shift hit him before he could even react, skin tightening and minimizing as the fur came next, and before he knew it, he was bounding the rest of the distance between them, and the wolf leapt and hit Stiles square in the chest with its front paws. Well. Really Derek hit him, but there was still a disconnect between him and the wolf he turned into, still some kinks to work out. And one of those problems included what his brain was currently screaming.

STILES STILES STILES MATE STILES STILES PROTECT MINE STILES STILES STILES NOW TAKE MINE STILES–

Derek didn’t even realize he was growling until he saw the fear in those fawn eyes, saw the way that Stiles was looking at him like he hadn’t looked at him in quite a long time. He stopped growling abruptly, smelling the acrid tinge of fear in the air, and immediately sweet smelling relief took its place, though Stiles’s tense posture didn’t relax. Then again, having a wolf on top of you–even if you knew the wolf–was probably pretty nerve-wracking.

But Derek was still angry for the moment, though steadily calming down as he stared into brown eyes that had softened like chocolate melting in the sun, though just a bit, considering Stiles was tense beneath him. After a minute in which it seemed Stiles was gathering himself up, he tried to move, trying to push himself up from underneath Derek. A growl formed low in Derek’s throat on instinct.

MINE MINE MINE STILES MATE STILES STILES TAKE NOW NOW STILES MINE PROTECT STILES STILES STILES–

Stiles stopped moving instantly, and the growling stopped, Derek’s inner wolf inexplicably pleased that Stiles was going to continue lying prone beneath him. He lay down on top of Stiles, a particularly warm and heavy blanket, though he was sure that he wouldn’t crush him, at least not in this form. As he settled on top of Stiles, Stiles seemed to resign himself to it, dropping his head back against the floor and staring up at the ceiling, sighing slightly, though that also could have just been the air going out of his lungs as Derek settled against his chest. 

If Derek had been a cat instead of a wolf, he could swear he’d be purring right now. As it was, his tail was wagging eagerly, and Stiles glanced up at him, raising his eyebrows. “Really?” he asked, some disbelief in his tone, though the irritation seemed to have bled out of it. “You’re happy to be crushing me under your massive weight?”

Derek would have rolled his eyes if he could have. Instead, he licked Stiles’s chin, who made a face and a noise, wiping at it with his sleeve. “That’s gross. You’re gross,” he said, but there was something in his voice, something that spoke of the light teasing and banter that they usually had. Something nice, easy, light. Better than that frustration and anger he’d carried with him into the loft. 

So Derek licked at his cheek this time, and Stiles made a “Blech” noise and wiped it away again, giving Derek a glare that held no real heat in it. Much better, yes, this was much better now that Stiles wasnt…whatever he’d been when he first came here. Yes, this was so much better. 

STILES STILES STILES STILES STILES–

God, his mind was so one-track in this form and it shouldn’t have been, it really shouldn’t have been. Honest to god. It didn’t help that as he looked at Stiles, Stiles’s brow furrowed like he was trying to figure something out, looking up at Derek. 

“What did you think about?” he asked, then huffed a breath before  Derek could even think about the question. “I guess you can’t really _tell_ me, can you? And I mean who, really. Who did you think about?”

And oh, Derek’s heart beat faster at that, and louder, he was sure, but thank god that Stiles’s hearing wasn’t as acute as a werewolf’s, because otherwise it would be a dead giveaway. He hesitated, wondering for a moment if he could tell the truth, if it was okay. If Stiles would understand, or want to run away. Or something equally dramatic and hurtful, something that would damage him for a long time, and how long, he honestly couldn’t say. That was the danger here.

But his head was screaming STILES STILES STILES MATE MATE MINE and he couldn’t think properly, so in a moment, he nudged Stiles under the chin with his nose, and when Stiles didn’t seem to get the hint, he did it again. Those brown eyes widened suddenly, and Stiles pointed to himself, and Derek nodded once, the only motion he could manage at the moment. 

“Wow. Okay,” Stiles said, exhaling slowly, and Derek couldn’t read him, either by scent or by sight. Or by hearing, because all he could tell was that Stiles’s heart had sped up from the confirmation from Derek. So Derek was a little surprised when, a minute later, a gentle hand began to pet his black fur, starting at the top of his head and moving down his neck to his upper back, about as far as Stiles could reach. 

He looked at Stiles in confusion, but lay his head down against his chest for easier access, looking up at him and seeing just an even neutral on Stiles’s face. Oh, that’d been too much, hadn’t it? He’d gone too far, all because of his stupid inner wolf that still wouldn’t shut up. After a few minutes more of silence, he whined, high-pitched and stopping just short of keening, and Stiles looked at him again.

“It’s weird, you know?” he said after a minute, and Derek’s heart stopped. “Seeing you like this, I mean.” God, it started beating again. “It’s just…I don’t know, easier, I guess? To talk to you? I don’t know, that sounds stupid,” he said, and Derek licked his cheek again, as if to reassure him.

This time, he got a smile for his efforts, and then Stiles continued. “I don’t…know how you meant that, Derek. I don’t know why you thought about me first, but I guess I’m hoping for a particular reason. But that’s…that’s stupid,” he muttered, and Derek whined again, Stiles raising his eyebrows at him. “Yeah, Big Bad Wolf my ass.”

Derek pretended to nip at him, but Stiles wasn’t fooled by it, snorting softly at the teeth that gently snapped next to his shoulder. His hand continued to soothingly run over Derek’s fur, and Derek had to wonder what he was trying to get across. If he was going to stop this at some point and try to leave again. His inner wolf was already growling at the thought, though at least he wasn’t doing it externally this time. 

“You just…I guess I’m not going to get anywhere being vague, am I?” Stiles said somewhat ruefully, giving Derek a small smile, and Derek huffed out a soft breath, laying his head back down on Stiles’s chest. He could feel it as Stiles took a deep breath, clearly steeling himself, then spoke again. “I think–at least, I want to think–that I know why you did it. But I don’t know. And I’m kind of scared to know.”

Derek waited breathlessly for him to continue, burying himself a little bit further underneath Stiles’s chin, afraid of what was coming next. He wanted to look at him but also didn’t, and the hand still soothing through his fur was probably the only thing keeping him as calm as he was right now. And even that affection made him feel guilty as he took it, because surely Stiles didn’t mean it that way. The possibility of him meaning it that way was so incredibly slim that–

“I like you, Derek. I like you a lot.”

And just like that, Derek was sure his heart was giving out, and he lifted his head again to look at Stiles, who was very carefully looking at the ceiling again. He licked his chin, and sure enough, Stiles looked back at him, startled. No. Nothing but honesty in those features, nothing but the truth. And just like that, he started to excitedly lick along Stiles’s jaw, who broke out into giggles, trying to push his muzzle away. 

“You are so gross!” he protested, and Derek relented, tail wagging hard and thumping against the floor every few wags. Stiles looked at him, that warmth returned to his amber eyes, and smiled. “I take that as a yes to my earlier suspicions then. Oh no, you’re not licking me again!” he protested, pushing away Derek’s muzzle as he tried it again. But Stiles laughed, and Derek would have smiled if he could, instead panting because he knew it’d put his wolf face into what looked like a smile.

STILES STILES STILES MATE MATE MINE STILES


End file.
